


Beyblade: Beginnings - The Thief

by PrimaAxis



Series: Beyblade: Beginnings - The Thief [1]
Category: Bakuten Shoot Beyblade
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-01-07 21:13:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrimaAxis/pseuds/PrimaAxis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(AU) In the harsh and unforgiving streets of Moscow, Bryan stumbles across a strange Abbey.<br/>After breaking and entering, he discovers more than its secrets. Is it, perhaps, his destiny?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Where It Began

The early spring air, was thick with a cold, cloudy fog; it hung lazily, blanketing the city in its wispy mist. Pulling his dirty, worn winter jacket - that served as his only real shelter from the harsh chill - tighter around his small, slender frame, he pushed on through the crisp snow. His long, shaggy lavender hair was dirty and lank, and dangling constantly in a curtain over his eyes baring the same colour. He was tired and hungry, and he could not count how many weeks it had been since he had travelled to Moscow and found himself aimlessly wandering its unforgiving streets. He had hoped that leaving would have offered him a preferable fate, but with no money and no shelter, Bryan was beginning to reconsider the wisdom of his actions. 

Carrying no possessions other than a worn canvas holdall bag which contained only the Beyblade he had crafted and anything he had managed to steal. His plan had been to sell these things steadily to provide money for food, but he had encountered greater troubles than he had anticipated selling these belongings and trinkets. Even hustling a few careless individuals for money had only provided him with so much, and Bryan was wondering if he would ever have the finances available to travel further. 

He trudged on through the snow; he was looking for an infamous Beyblading spot, that he had heard about from a number of his victims. If it really was as good as they claimed, perhaps he could make his fortune and maybe rent himself a room for the night; that way maybe he'd have a chance to shower and sleep on a real bed. So far, he'd had spied no sign of this 'pot-of-gold' that he had been promised. In the distance he could just about make out the silhouette of a church or abbey, through the misty fog. It was not what he was looking for, but churches and abbeys often offered sanctuary for a weary traveller or a person on the streets; even if it was abandoned it would offer better shelter than the drafty warehouses he had been sleeping in. Following the path, he headed for the aged building. 

As he approached the dingy and oppressive looking sanctuary, all appeared to be still and silent. He drew nearer to a crop of trees, to better view the place; it was a little shabby on the exterior, but most of the ornate features of the uniquely Russian architecture remained. It was probably still in some degree of use, but that did not mean that he could not find rest here. He ventured along the path leading to the large, wide wooden doors. A few feet away from the abbey's frontage, Bryan glimpsed a number of men dressed in long black robes, that obscured their features. Monks, perhaps? Maybe this place was a Monastery then. Taking up the cloth had never been on his list of ambitions, but if they were Monks, they would not turn away a person in need, a person that was willing to work for his meal. He wasn't entirely sure how he would approach them, but he was certain that he could think up something. Staying close to the edge of the building, he made his way closer to the gathering of men. 

He could barely make out their conversation, but from what his ears could discern, they appeared to be discussing a break-in. Not the best time to arrive as a filthy, street kid looking for shelter then; especially when most of the possessions he carried with him were obviously not his own. He knew that first impression were a very important thing, even more so here in Russia, so he opted to leave for now and perhaps come back another day. As he started back towards the frosty hill and snow coated trees, he caught sight of a flash of metal in the bushes. He bent closer to inspect the discarded object; after all scrap metal always fetched good prices, and if he was lucky it would be something useful left behind by the thief that Monks had mentioned. Bryan stretched out a few fingers, and brushed away some of the leaves, twigs and other plant debris, to get a more comprehensive look at the item; it became quickly apparent that this was no piece of abandoned metal, it was some kind of monitoring device, most likely surveillance. Bryan couldn't think of a time that he'd ever heard of a Church, Abbey or Monastery having such a high tech security system. If they had the money for this kind of thing, he wondered what else they owned that could be so valuable. Maybe it would be worth the risk of sneaking inside and finding out for himself. It wasn't like this 'tip-off' he'd received was showing any signs of fruit, and he was going to need money again rather soon. If they had so much wealth, surely loosing a few items to feed the hungry and homeless wouldn't be too troubling for them. 

He fished through his bag, and retrieved the modified Beyblade of his own design. It was possessed a bladed weight disc, which allowed it to cut through the air, making it faster and more aerodynamic; it also doubled up as a weapon in a pinch. If Bryan was going into this place, having a little back-up wouldn't go amiss. He crawled his way slowly from the bushes and made a rapid dash for a nearby archway. He waited in the shade, with his body pressed against the cold stone for the Monks to pass by. Using all the stealth he could muster, he followed after them to the interior of this interesting place. 

Inside the building it was dingy, dark and highly oppressive. The stone walls were thick with generations of dust, dirt and grime that even the dismal lighting levels, did little to conceal. The air was thick with the scent of dust, musk and mildew. Already this building had an abundance of charm and charisma; perhaps seeking shelter here was off the menu, after all. Not wanting to linger around and run into anyone who might mistake him for the thief from before, he continued through the corridor. In the eerie silence of the Holy Place he heard the unnatural sounds of a mechanical motor running; glancing around for the source, he discovered that they had internal surveillance also. He chided himself for his folly; it wasn't uncommon for there to be both internal and external security. Before he could be caught, he placed his lavender-grey Beyblade onto the launcher and fired it at the concealed camera. It struck the device with a satisfying ease, causing sparks from the sudden electrical discharge, and smoke. Bryan hoped that all of their CCTV systems would be as easy to locate and dismantle. Not wanting to stay around in case someone was monitoring the system and had been alerted to his presence, he rushed onwards. 

As he progressed onwards, he began to realise how much the place resembled a maze; all of the aged hallways, were uniform and indistinguishable from one another. There wasn't even the slightest hint of individuality that would offer a newcomer and idea of where they were or how to proceed to an area of more significance. The only sign that hinted that he was headed in the right direction was the increased number of security cameras, and the seemingly narrowing passageways. Despite his apparently endless sneaking, he had not found anything that seemed worth his effort. Bryan was growing steadily tired of this endless traversing, without gaining anything. When he noticed another doorway; he checked around but there appeared to be nothing hindering his entrance. By now, he was becoming aware that whatever this place was, it was no ordinary Monastery. He turned the handle and entered the space. The room was filled with a bizarre green glow, and large tubes that may have been filled with some kind of fluid. He approached them with caution, not wanting to trigger any alarms or hidden security measures that may have been protecting this area. One of the tubes came to life suddenly, startling him; inside a creature unlike anything he'd seen awoke and gazed at him with the eyes of a predatory bird. For a moment he was captivated, not only by fear but by the overwhelming strength the being possessed. He pressed a palm to the glass container.  
"Fascinating isn't it, m'boy?" A deep voice behind offered.  
Bryan wheeled around and raised his launcher; out of the shadows appeared a tall man of an impressive build, dressed in more grandeur than the other monks. He must've been in charge of this peculiar place. The other man smiled a thin smile, without humour or welcome, as he drew nearer to Bryan. The lavender haired boy felt his stomach clench uncomfortably; this man's presence alone was enough to give someone nightmares. Bryan narrowed his pale eyes, and aimed the launcher more obviously. The man wearing a strange hat began to laugh, a chilling sound equally without humour.  
"Why don't you put that down, m'boy; you're the one who's trespassing after all" The Priest swept closer, his long black cassock floating out behind him.  
His arm suddenly sprang from the robes and towards Bryan's launcher. Not wanting to be disarmed, he fired his trusty Beyblade at the man. It flew free off the launcher, and tore through the long black sleeve and the flesh of the man. He instantly withdrew his arm, letting out a gasp of pain. His grey eyes darkened, and Bryan knew that his actions had been of the wrong sort to deal with this kind of person. He controlled his Beyblade to leap up and strike at the man again, before he headed to the exit; better to leave the older man distracted than give him a chance to pursue Bryan. He made it to the exit, only discover it barred by the monks he had seen earlier gathered at the entrance. Uncertain of his choices, he let the adrenaline that was slowly filling his system, take-over; he lunged at them, knocking them into one another but not entirely clearing the path. He recalled his Beyblade, sending it at the monks who were now attempting to grapple with him. It sliced one of them deeply across the face; he howled in protest and dropped to his knees clasping his wound. Offering the others a razor blade smile, he redirected his attacks.  
Soon blood and black fabric littered the ancient stone floor, but the monks had not given up their attempts to subdue him. Bryan knew his equipment was quickly losing spins, he recalled the the Beyblade to hand, ready for another launch. Ripping once more, he threw himself at the large men and through into the corridor. 

They were not long behind him, and now sirens - that were alerting others to the intrusion, sounded. Bryan could not understand how he came to find himself in situations such as these, but it was not an uncommon theme for trouble to find him. He felt pride that his Beyblade was standing up to the excessive use that it had been given since they ventured into this place; perhaps his workmanship was better than he gave himself credit for. Footsteps clattered along the maze-like corridors around him, which gave him no clear indication as to which of them was blocked or contained would-be assailants. Opting to stick to the path he entered on, he persisted onwards. It was not long before he encountered trouble; another group of monks had assembled in front of him, and these appeared more burly than the last. Cornered like the animal that the kids back in his hometown had often teased that he was, Bryan kicked into overdrive. He would not be caught and face whatever punishment these people saw fit. He ran full speed at the blockage, springing off the bodies of the would-be captors as he went; hoping to use the full momentum of his run-up combined with his body weight to force his way through - the principal was not unlike Beyblading. Large hands grabbed at him and attempted to restrain him, but he swung his legs and kicked hard at anything within reach. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, spreading the adrenaline throughout his system. His breathing was coming in more ragged gasps from the exertion, but he had no intention of giving up. Freeing himself barely from this group, he scurried along the stone floor with as much speed and stealth as he could muster. Finding a path that broke off from the others, he quickly tore down it, hoping that it would guide him to the exit. 

Fate, apparently, had other ideas. At the end of the path stood the priest from before, he quickly restrained Bryan with ease; no matter how he twisted or fought, the priest's grip remained vice-like. When Bryan glanced at the older man's face he had expected to see anger or blind fury, but instead he found something else, something he was sure was worse; he was impressed. The priest gave Bryan a last thin smile, before he adjusted his grip; Bryan was uncertain as to what happened, but his world went dark. 

\---- 

When the darkness and fog that clouded his mind withdrew, he awoke in an unfamiliar place. It was pitch dark and spacious, but from his position on the hard stone floor he could not make out any defining features. He pulled himself up into the seating position; his head swam and ached, but with the absence of light it wasn't insufferable. It was almost entirely silent, but he could just about make out the soft whimpering of another in pain. He tried not to ask himself what this meant for him, and instead focus on gaining his bearings; Bryan was certain that he'd find no escape, but that didn't meant it wasn't a good idea to familiarise himself with the surroundings. After all, if he wanted to exploit them to his advantage, he was going to have to be aware of what he had to work with. With caution he hauled himself onto his feet, and looked around; the space appeared to be some kind of holding cell, the door even had bars. What kind of Monastery would have a prison of its own? But then again, what kind of Monastery would have labs like those he'd found himself in before? At least, he was sure they were labs. 

"Please" a child's voice whimpered "Please, I won't fail again"  
Bryan wheeled around and took a few careful strides to opposite side of his cage. Peering through the bars he could just about see a younger boy huddled by the bars of his own cage. The boy possessed shoulder length, dirty blonde hair and a stripped blue jacket; from what Bryan could make out, his youthful face was streaky with tears.  
"I won't fail, I won't" The boy whispered the words over like a kind of mantra "I promise, no more failures"  
"Hey kid, you alright?" Bryan grunted through the bars; he felt like he had to say something to his fellow prisoner.  
The blonde boy swivelled to face him, revealing that the other side of his face was swollen and bruised; one of his inquisitive green eyes had been beaten shut. He appeared shocked at the revelation that another was down here with him, or maybe it was just that he didn't recognise him.  
"I-I'm f-f-fine" He stuttered, choking on tears that were not yet falling "W-who are you? I h-haven't seen you before"  
Bryan didn't really feel like giving out important details like his name, but he didn't mind being honest about the fact that he didn't belong there.  
"That's 'cause I'm not from this place; whatever this place is supposed to be" Bryan explained.  
"Y-you're not a ..." The blonde boy's voice trailed away "You've n-not heard of Balkov Abbey?"  
Bryan shrugged his shoulders, but realised that the gesture may not have been visible from the other boy's position; he told him "Can't say that I have"  
"I-it's a-a-a training p-program for Beybladers"  
"Looks pretty serious for a training program" Bryan commented.  
"O-only the b-best survive it; I-i-I'm what happens wh-when y-y-you fail" The blonde boy broke off into more sobs.  
Bryan doubted that he would receive much more valuable or comprehensive information from the emotional wreck, but it had at least offered a little insight into the goings on at this unusual place. He wondered if there would be anything he could do to comfort the other boy, but unawares of what was in store for the both of them, he couldn't really formulate an escape plan or offer words of reassurance.  
"What's your name, kid?" Bryan asked.  
The blonde boy glanced back at the lavender haired teen, tears trailing freely down his grimy face.  
"I-I'm Artyom, why?"  
"Well, Artyom, nothings' going to happen to us if it's only a Beyblade training project; no one is that crazy about Beyblading"  
"Y-you don't understand" Artyom protested "Th-there's more g-going on here than y-you know"  
"Such as...?"  
Before Bryan could receive Artyom's answer, a group of guards stomped their way through the stony corridor and stopped in front of Artyom's cell. One of the 'monks' unlocked the heavy metal gate, and reached in for Artyom. The boy started up his mantra again as they hauled him free of the darkness and carried him off.  
"Y-you don't understand!" He called to Bryan, his demeanour one of uncontrolled fear.  
Bryan felt a knot begin to form in the bottom of his stomach; what mess had he gone and found himself in this time. 

\---- 

Trapped in the dingy, stone cell situated in the under levels of the abbey, it was incredibly difficult to determine the passage of time; largely due to the absence of natural light or view of the outside world. There had been little for Bryan to do but consider the time that was passing him by, an attempt at escape and what exactly was going on here; eventually all of those topics wore him out, and his opted for another nap. He awoke to discover that the Priest from before was standing over him, observing him closely.  
"Ah, you're awake" The priest remarked, observing Bryan with what appeared to be amusement "That's good; perhaps we can have a little chat, then m'boy"  
Bryan sat up, glaring at the much larger man, but bit back on any words of response that wanted to leap from his mouth and wound the other man's self-esteem.  
"I shall take that as your agreement"  
The priest gestured for the guards that had hung back by the door, to take hold of him and escort him to wherever it was that the priest intended. Two giants, dressed in robes that made it difficult to tell them apart, grabbed Bryan and held onto him in a vice-like grip. The priest smiled thinly and gestured that they lead the way. 

The only advantage that Bryan could find in being hauled rather ungracefully through the grimy and dank, stone corridors was that it gave him a chance to get more of a feel for the layout of the building. Most of the building was identical in its design, making each hallway not easily recognisable from another, but he did his best to remember what he could. The guards passed rooms containing all kinds of strange sights, but each time Bryan only caught the smallest glimpse; not enough to really understand what was happening. From what he had seen, this place seemed nothing at all like a place of worship nor any kind of Beyblade training program that he'd ever heard of. When they had at last reached their destination, Bryan was released and lead into a space that vaguely resembled an office. The priest was only a mere moment behind them, and after taking a seat in the high backed chair that sat before a large, antique-looking desk, he gestured for his peers to leave them in privacy. 

The priest steepled his fingers together, facing the lavender haired teen; his unblinking grey eyes held a piercing gaze, and Bryan was convinced that the older man was attempting to regard his soul, merely with a look. After allowing a unnerving moment of silence, the older man cleared his throat.  
"I suppose you are wondering why I brought you here, and did not merely throw you back into the streets where you belong" His voice contained more than a hint of arrogance "The answer is quite simple, M'boy..."  
"I've seen too much" Bryan cut-in.  
The priest smiled his usually cold, thin and unfeeling smile "Not quite, m'boy, not quite; you showed me some very interesting talents, and as a nurturer of young minds, I believe you have potential"  
"For what?" Bryan asked, his tone unconvinced "If this is about to be some lousy speech about redeeming myself, I don't need to hear it"  
"I assure you, what I have to say is something that you will likely find very interesting; few in positions such as yours are ever given such an opportunity, you would be a fool to waste it, m'boy, without even hearing me out"  
Bryan rolled his lavender hued eyes pointedly, but allowed the older man to continue; after all, it didn't really appear as though he had a choice.  
"First why don't we try some introductions, hmm?" The priest suggested "I am Boris Balkov, father abbot of Balkov Abbey; and who might you be?"  
"None of your bloody business" He replied simply.  
"I believe we are going to have to work on your manners, but never mind" Boris sighed, before launching into a continuation "As I'm sure you're aware by now, this place is no ordinary Abbey..."  
"No shit; I wonder what gave it away"  
Boris narrowed his eyes dangerously, indicating a steady loss of patience; Bryan decided to be smart and control his urge to answer-back.  
When Boris was certain that his monologue would not face another stream of interruptions he continued "This Abbey is property of the Biovolt corporation, and is a unique training programme for skilled Beybladers such as yourself" He paused his speech, making sure that Bryan was still listening "You're lucky we're still recruiting"  
"Biovolt corporation?"  
"Ah yes, Biovolt is an acronym for: Beybladers Intent On Victory Over Lawless Tyranny; we're backed by a very powerful investor known as Voltaire, who has made all of this truly possible" Boris explained "Here at Balkov Abbey, we can take your exisisting talents and hone them, turning you into a unbeatable Beyblader"  
"And if I'm not interested?"  
"Well that would be most regretful, but I doubt a homeless street urchin like yourself would be sadly missed by anyone" Boris replied, in almost mournful tones "But I have every confidence that you'll see the benefits of joining us, and make the right decision"  
Bryan shivered involuntary "You're wrong" He managed "I have a family and I will be missed"  
"I highly doubt that, m'boy; if you had a place to go or a family to take care of you, you wouldn't be breaking and entering into unknown buildings looking and smelling as you do" Boris countered "But it was a nice try; now what do you say about joining us here at the Biovolt corporation and letting us transform you into the ultimate Beyblader?"  
"I'd rather rot in hell" Bryan remarked "But seeing as though I don't really have a choice, I accept"  
Boris offered the same eerie smile as he had a number of times before "I'm glad to hear it" He replied, a look of genuine satisfaction blooming across his face "Welcome to our family" 

\----


	2. Settling In

"Welcome to our family" Boris stretched out a hand, moving the long black robe, to reveal the cut that Bryan had given him not too long before; he didn't realise at the time, just how much damage had been done in the short strike, but the long thin cut appeared tender. He did not want to take the older man's hand in a gesture of false camaraderie, but saw no other options if he still wanted a shot at escape. He would play along, at least for now. Stretching out his own thin fingers, he grasped the hand of the alleged priest.  
"I can't tell you how happy it makes me to have you on side, m'boy; you're going to be an asset, I can feel it"  
Bryan stifled the urge to argue with him, instead he opted for silence rather than humouring Boris. He merely kept his gaze even and level with the priest and awaited what was to come.  
"Of course I'm sure you're looking forward to meeting the other boys here, aren't you?" Boris continued, pushing himself out of his chair and folding his arms behind his back. A gesture that almost suggested that he had something concealed, a weapon perhaps. "Before we waste anymore of each other's time, let me introduce you to the project's pride and joy"  
"I can't wait" Bryan responded, managing to keep a good deal of sarcasm from his tone, but not entirely masking it.  
If Boris noticed the edge to the younger boy's voice, he ignored it. He placed a hand on Bryan's shoulder, with a tight enough grip to warn him that it was pointless attempting to writhe free; with this hand, he steered himself and Bryan out of his office and along the dingy corridors of Balkov Abbey. 

Boris stopped outside of a pair of heavy, wooden doors; pulling on a wrought iron handle, he ushered Bryan into the room that lay beyond. The room bore the same grimy walls as the rest of the Abbey, but that's where the similarities to the rest of the building's architecture ended; the room was filled with a number of high-tech monitoring devices, and re-enforced Bey-Stadiums. The lighting in this room was also unlike that of the halls and rooms that Bryan had so far explored - it was blindingly bright, and reminded Bryan strongly of the flood lights that you found in sports stadiums around the world. Despite himself, he was impressed by the technologies that lurked in the deceptive shell of a Monastery. Stood at a dish each, were three very different boys; one was heavily built and blonde, another was slender and a red-head and the last was a short and stocky boy with dark blue hair. All of them were practising hard against, what Bryan could only assume was a computerised opponent. 

In a powerful swirl of tide, the blonde quickly dispatched the opposing Beyblade; the computer near-by registered the win, and displayed the increase in difficulty. The blonde recalled his beyblade to hand and reloaded his launcher; the device's display ignited in row, showing the countdown for the beginning of the next match. Boris appeared impressed with the blonde's performance so far; he steered Bryan past the blonde and onwards towards the dark haired boy. He was equally occupied with his own match against two automated opponents; with a sweep of his arm, his Beyblade took to the air and collided with the first in a pile-drive manoeuvre. The first opponent veered wildly off-course and connected with the second opponent, causing both of them to be thrown clear of the Bey-Stadium. The dark haired boy gave a small, harsh bark of a laugh before retrieving his own Beyblade. Boris raised an eyebrow at the shorter boy, but didn't seem unimpressed with his progress; moving on, they approached the serious looking red-head. He was engulfed in his battle against three of machine's opponents; his grey Beyblade spiralled out-wards from the centre spreading cold air, and ice around the opponents. With each pass of the red-heads Beyblade, the opposing Beyblades became encased with ice and snow; having built-up speed and momentum, the red-head sent his Beyblade on a violent collision course with his opponents. The first strike hit without a shred of mercy, cracking the other Beyblade in two, not halting for even a second, he pounced on his next victim who received a similar demise; the last one standing, did not stand a chance due to its close proximity to the others. The red-head wasted no time in peppering the last of the automated opponents with the debris, causing a shrapnel bomb effect; with his foe badly wounded, he ended the match quickly. Boris clapped loudly drawing the attention of the other three boys.  
"Bravo, that was a wonderful demonstration; I am truly proud" He praised.  
"I'm glad that you find our performance satisfactory, Boris" The red-head replied, falling into line with the other boys in front of their mentor.  
Bryan surveyed the group of boys; although somewhat mismatched in their appearance, they all wore the same expression of complete obedience. The red-head's vivid blue eyes flicked for a moment onto Bryan; a flicker of a interest coloured his features, but only for a moment before he returned his complete attention to the alleged priest.  
"Everyone seems to be coming along nicely; even you, Ian" Boris turned his intimidating grey eyes onto the dark haired boy "What better induction could we offer our newcomer"  
In that moment all eyes were fixed on Bryan, inspecting him with some degree of curiosity. Boris gave Bryan a little nudge forward pushing him towards the others.  
"Newcomer?" The red-head inquired.  
"Yes Tala, you understand correctly" Boris replied "This boy broke into the abbey a couple of days ago, but during the break-in he demonstrated some fascinating skills; I believe he has potential, so I have decided to be lenient and offer him an opportunity to join with us"  
Now their curious glances were mixed with another emotion; awe. Bryan was beginning to feel a little self-conscious, but held back on the urge to make a few disparaging remarks. Boris stayed silent long enough for the weight of his words to sink in with the other boys, and Bryan began to understand that his folly had been greater than he had originally anticipated. His mind wandered back to Artyom, the boy who had been trapped together with him in the cells; he couldn't help but wonder what had become of the so-called 'failure'.  
"I'm sure you're wondering why I am introducing you, aren't you m'boy?" Boris asked the red-head.  
"I will confess, I am curious" Tala answered.  
"Let's just say he's shown sufficient skills to join the three of you; I'm sure you'll all take good care of him from now on" Boris told them.  
"He's going to be on our team?" Ian inquired, his tone sounding petulant.  
"Yes, m'boy, he is" Boris narrowed his eyes at the shorter boy's interruption; his expression carried an undertone of much darker emotions than was being freely expressed.  
"That hardly seems fair..."  
"Its not about what's fair, Ian" Tala cut-in "Those are Boris' wishes, and we will be carrying them out"  
As irritated as Boris had looked a moment before, it evaporated almost immediately at Tala's words "Quite right, Tala" Boris agreed "I will leave him in your capable hands, I'm sure you will all show him the ropes and get him settled in"  
"As you wish, sir" Tala responded "Just one more thing"  
Just before Boris reached the door, he turned and faced the boys "What is it?"  
"Who is he?"  
Boris gave a quick shrug of his broad shoulders "He didn't disclose that information; call him whatever you choose, his name isn't important"  
With that, he swept from the training facility, his long black robes trimmed with gold edges trailing after him. 

When the door had closed after the intimidating man, that posed as the head priest, the other boys closed in a circle around Bryan. Their eyes surveyed him with a closer scrutiny this time. Tired of being an object of curious fascination, like an animal in the zoo, Bryan glared at them darkly from under his lank fringe. The red-head closed the gap between them and stretched out a friendly hand.  
"Welcome to Balkov Abbey" He said, his tone carrying a hint of sarcasm "I'm Tala, the team captain of the Demolition Boys"  
The blonde stepped in a little closer "I'm Spencer" His voice was a rich tenor, but it was softer than Bryan would have imagined for someone of his build.  
"He reeks!" Ian announced, with dramatic disgust "He doesn't look like he's even washed in a year"  
"What a lovely introduction, Ian" Tala remarked, digging Ian in the ribs with a boney elbow "As you've probably already guessed, the gnome is Ian"  
"I'm not a gnome!" Ian whined, attempting shove his team-mate, who refused to lose balance.  
"But his name is Ian" Spencer jested, obviously trying to break the ice.  
Tala kept his bright blue eyes fixed on Bryan; he knew the red-headed leader was prompting him to speak up and introduce himself, but as he had no intention of staying any longer than necessary, he decided to negate the pleasentries.  
Aware that his approach did not appear to be working, Tala tried another "And you are?"  
Bryan met the slender boy's gaze and shrugged his shoulders "Does it matter?"  
"Oh you can speak; I was starting to think you were mute" Tala commented, a hint of irritation to his voice "If you're going to be a member of this team, then I want to know your name"  
"I hate to break it to you, but I have no interest in your team" Bryan remarked coldly "In fact I have no intention of staying here; I've got other places to go, y'see"  
Tala raised an eyebrow, his eyes darkened slightly "Well, I hate to break this to you, but if Boris says you're property of the Biovolt corporation you're not going anywhere; you might as well get comfortable, because this is home from now on, kid"  
"If I can break in here, I can break out again" Bryan assured him.  
"Good luck with that" Tala responded, his voice containing more than a hint of aggravation.  
"Are you mad?" Ian scoffed "You might've managed to get in here - which is saying something, given how heavily this place is guarded - but you won't be leaving"  
"If you found your way in here, they'll have tightened up security to stop anymore unwanted visitors" Spencer explained "Ian and Tala are right, there is no escape"  
"Watch me"  
"Do you really think that you're the first to try?" Tala asked him, striding around him in a circle "If you hadn't gotten caught in here, and you weren't of interest to Boris, you might've stood a chance..." He paused and then gestured around the room before continuing "Ever read 1989? Well, its pretty much Big Brother in here; they're watching you always, and you will be watched especially closely"  
"Is that so?" Bryan didn't bother keeping his tone civil "Well, I'm not one to give up easily"  
"That's something you and Boris have in common then" Tala replied.  
"Tala, let's not bother with him; training is over, let's just go back to our dorm" Ian suggested, turning his comically large nose up at Bryan "He'll be the one that gets in trouble if he tries some half-baked escapology"  
"Whilst I'd love to have the luxury of choice, Ian, Boris gave us instructions to help him settle in" Tala told his team-mate "We'll be the ones for it, if we don't even try"  
"Tala's right, Ian" Spencer agreed.  
Tala strode back to face Bryan, he placed a hand on the lavender haired teen's shoulder and steered him towards the doors "Well then, Alexei, it's time to find you a bunk"  
"Alexei?" Bryan quizzed, starring at the red-head.  
"Boris said you didn't have a name, so I'm going to give you one" Tala explained, pushing him from the room "Unless, you want to tell me what you're name really is"  
Bryan simply glared as the others joined him in the dank corridor.  
"Fine, Alexei it is"

\- - - -

Accompanied by the boys who obviously knew their way around the maze like structure of the Abbey, it wasn't difficult to locate the dorms. In fact, they were situated in far more recognisable area of the building; the ambiance was also a little different, far less oppressive and more like a sanctuary. Perhaps it was the lived-in appearance that offered the change in atmosphere or maybe he was simply imagining things, Bryan did not care to give it much more consideration. Tala led the way past other dorms, housing the other recruits of the Biovolt training program. A few times he actually glimpsed the other boys, and the difference in the range of ages surprised him greatly; there were boys as young as five years old to boys in their mid-teens. In truth, by now he shouldn't have been surprised by anything he stumbled across in this alleged Holy Place; even if he'd caught sight of Boris in a Nun's habit, he shouldn't be all too shocked about it. The red-head opened the last door in the row, and ushered the group inside. 

The room was a fair size stone clad space, with two sets of metal bunkbeds situated at opposite sides of the room. There were two Spartan looking closets, at the foot of each of the bunks. The room was finished off with a small window at the far wall, and a simple bulb light hanging from the ceiling. It wasn't exactly luxury, but it wasn't complete squalor.  
"Welcome to the Costa Del Tala" the captain quipped "Its not five star accommodation, but its better than which ever cardboard box you crawled out of"  
"But it is all-inclusive" Spencer joined in "It even has its own gym facilities"  
"Sadly there's no spa, but I can promise there'll be plenty to keep you active" Tala continued, smirking at the blonde.  
"There's no room-service either" Spencer remarked.  
"Well, I'm sorry it doesn't meet your standards, Spencer" Tala jested, pacing over to a bunk "It might not have everything, but at least it has the right price"  
"Oh yeah?" Bryan asked.  
"Yeah" Tala confirmed "Nothing but your complete and total obedience and loyalty"  
"He means, all they want is your soul" Ian explained sourly, flouncing over to his bunk and climbing to the top level "Of course Tala is ginger, and apparently they don't have souls; probably why he doesn't see it as a big deal"  
"Now, now kiddies" Spencer chided, shooting Ian a dirty look "Don't be stupid, Tala obviously has a soul"  
"How would you know?" Bryan asked, with a shrug.  
Tala raised an eyebrow at the comment "Thanks; I'm sure if I ever had one, Boris keeps it in a jar somewhere"  
"Don't exaggerate" Spencer responded, seating himself on the bunk below Ian.  
"Oh so I can't even be dramatic once in a while" Tala complained, whilst stifling a giggle "Let's get you sorted out with a bunk, Viktor"  
"Viktor?" Ian asked, hanging over the railing.  
"Well, he didn't like Alexei much" Tala answered.  
"My name isn't Viktor" Bryan corrected.  
"Well then, Grigori, if you told us your name, we wouldn't have to play this guessing game"  
"Oo, oo!" Spencer chimed-in "Is it Rumpelstiltskin?"  
Bryan snorted, and observed the red-head setting out the bunk above; even after Bryan had made it clear that he had no intention of remaining, the leader was still attempting to make him welcome. The team captain finished the simple task with expediency, and then swung himself back over the railing and onto the stone floor.  
With a sweeping hand gesture he told Bryan "This is where you sleep, from now on"  
"Thanks, I guess" Bryan replied, shuffling over to inspect his living conditions; they would be satisfactory, until he could formulate a plan of escape.  
"Oh, you do know what manners are; I was starting to wonder" Spencer teased, stretching slightly.  
"Now, Spencer..." Tala reprimanded.  
"'Don't pick on him'!" Ian and Tala chorused.  
Spencer gave a small chuckle and rolled his eyes at his companions teasing. The simple companionship they shared, and their easy banter with one another was obvious and it made Bryan feel a small pang of jealousy; he'd never experienced that kind of friendship. The red-head seemed to realise that Bryan was being talked around and set to including him once again.  
"Have you got any belongings?"  
Bryan gave a small shrug "I had a bag of stuff, but I don't know what happened to it after I got caught"  
"I'll talk to Boris about getting it back later" Tala told him "When you do have something to store, use these few shelves"  
Tala pulled open the plain varnished wooden closet doors, and gestured to empty shelves situated in the bottom of storage area. At the top, possessions that he was certain belonged to the red-head, were neatly stacked and folded away.  
"Okay; but I probably won't need it" Bryan said, shoving his hands into his pockets.  
"If you say so" Tala replied, closing the doors and planting himself on his own bunk "But you might as well get used to fact, that once you end-up here, you're here for the long haul; like it or not"  
"This might surprise you, Rumple, but its not like we relish staying here either" Spencer remarked.  
Bryan threw himself down onto the floor, and sat crossed legged; irritated his asked "Why not leave then?"  
"Because its far easier said than done" Tala reiterated his words from earlier that day.  
"And where would we go if we got out?" Spencer explained "How would we survive?"  
"Not to mention the fact that they'll be looking for you" Ian joined in "And believe me, Boris isn't the sort to give up"  
"Ah yes, the infamous 'black sack' and bottle of chloroform" Tala said, placing his arms behind his head and laying back on his bed.  
"What?"  
"You didn't know?" Tala asked, a smirk forming across his features "That's the way Boris welcomes home all of his 'lost' boys"  
"Then they take a trip down to the lower level, where the thoughts of the outside can't disturb their reacclimatisation to the Abbey" Spencer added.  
"With some physical therapy, courtesy of Boris' trusty goons" Tala quipped.  
"What they're saying is: Boris will find you, kidnap you into the back of a van and then beat you senseless" Ian translated.  
"If you need the break-down, then yes, that about sums it up" Tala confirmed.  
"But there are more of us then there are of them, what about a revolt?" Bryan suggested.  
"No one would do it" Spencer replied "They're too scared of what would happen to them if we failed"  
"Not to mention the fact that no one here trusts anyone who isn't a part of their unit" Ian added.  
If it hadn't been for the solemn truth that was etched into the features of each of the three boys, Bryan would have called them paranoid or believed their words to be an exaggeration; years of being beaten down and powerless had dulled whatever flames of anger should have burned behind their eyes. In the eyes of each of them, there was nothing but a dim spark of life, one the suggested it wasn't entirely sure of why it was still burning. Bryan simply could not relate to their defeatist attitude; if he had been in their position for any length of time, he was certain that it would only fuel the rage and frustration - it would provide him with the necessary tools to find an escape, not rob him of them. If they really wanted a solution to their situation, they'd find a way to organise a revolution; an unexpected uprising would be a difficult thing to quash, even in a place such as this.  
"You don't all have to be best friends" Bryan told them "Forge some kind of temporary alliance, just long enough to break everyone out of this hellhole, then you can go back to being a distrustful or resentful, or whatever it is you people feel for each other"  
"An interesting theory, Dmitri" Tala responded, glancing at Bryan.  
"Look all that matters to anyone is getting out right?" Bryan wanted to know; looking from Tala to the others "If that's the case then you should be prepared to do anything that might earn that freedom"  
"Who knew you were such an idealist" Tala remarked, seating himself forward and looking Bryan in the eye.  
He instantly felt self-conscious under the unblinking, scrutinising gaze of the leader of the Demolition Boys. His ice blue eyes were bright, intense, intelligent but searching thoroughly for the seriousness or conviction that matched Bryan's words, in his lavender purple eyes.  
"I'd never have taken you for one so - what's the word, ah yes - visionary" Tala continued adding a little dramatic flourish to his words "Perhaps you are from one of those unrealistic 'new living' cults or something, or an anarchist - with the way that you're talking"  
"Would explain the personal hygiene" Spencer joked, eyeing the two boys with subtle curiosity.  
"You could be right there, Spencer" Tala agreed "Speaking of that, its time we did something about your smell"  
"What about the revolution?" Bryan demanded.  
"You know what they say - patience is a virtue" Tala quoted "Planning the revolution can wait, you stinking up our sleeping space, however, can not"  
Bryan glared at the red-head "What do you mean the revolution can wait?"  
"Its not October yet, comrade" Tala declared, springing from his bunk and leading Bryan towards the door "Now that would have some irony, wouldn't it"  
"Uh..."  
"Forget it; let's just get you cleaned up!" 

\- - - - -

The washroom was as bare as the rest of the dingy place, but shockingly someone had seen fit to add some showers and hot, running water to the aged building. The tiles that lined the walls were greying, and had a line layer of limescale and soap residue, but otherwise it was passable; not that Bryan hadn't grown accustomed to using whatever facilities he came across. Even though it pained him to be this honest with himself, this was probably one of the nicer places he had been forced to use the facilities of.  
"This would be the bathroom" Tala announced, as though he couldn't have worked that out for himself.  
"Its communal, of course" Spencer added, from behind the pair.  
The hulking blonde was watching from the doorway with a bath towel and a bottle of soap, tucked under one armpit. Tala turned and smiled at his team mate, and gestured for the supplies he had requested to brought in. Spencer obliged, placing the items he had gathered into the redhead's waiting arms.  
"One of the perks of this place is when we say its all-inclusive, we really mean it" Tala told Bryan "Even your toiletries are on the house"  
The redhead waved the items before Bryan, as if demonstrating the many advantages of a life in the dank halls of Balkov Abbey - try as he might to make the place sound like a sparkling sports retreat, Bryan wasn't one to swallow nonsense, however neatly packaged.  
"Which means anything you require, can be found in Stores here" Spencer explained.  
"Okay, thanks for wasting your time telling me" Bryan remarked icily "I'm starting to get the impression that you guys are a bit slow, but I've already told you that I'm not staying; all this orientation, its pointless"  
Tala flicked his vivid blue eyes onto Bryan in an intimidating, unblinking gaze. Bryan wasn't sure if his words had finally filtered through into the ginger boy's head, or if he was merely annoyed at the implication that he was stupid. Spencer hovered closer to Bryan, and clamped a hand down onto his shoulder.  
"Its an interesting point of view you've got there, Rumple" Spencer glared down, at the smaller lavender haired boy "But perhaps you've realised, we're smart enough to know the consequences of not following Boris' orders - you might not like the will of Boris, but you'll come to accept that no matter your personal feelings, you will be following it"  
"Well said, Spencer" Tala agreed "But best not waste our time telling him everything, after all it ruins all the fun of his midnight exploration"  
"Midnight exploration?" Spencer asked, looking a little confused.  
"Yeah, you know the one where he scouts out the place before making his secret agent worthy escape" Tala shot back, a mocking edge to his voice.  
"I don't think Houdini could've gotten out of this place, Tala" Ian said, entering the bathroom to stand with the others "I see you haven't managed to wash it yet"  
"I was just getting to that, thank you, Ian" Tala responded; his tone implied he wasn't impressed by the smaller boy's insubordination.  
Spencer pushed Bryan towards one of the shower stalls "I'm pretty that sure Rumple, can handle that for himself"  
"I'm not so sure" Ian remarked, once again turning his nose up.  
Bryan was beginning to get the impression that the blue haired 'gnome' - as he'd been affectionately nicknamed - had some kind of personal issue with a newcomer on his territory; or maybe it was simply Bryan's presence, that was getting up his nose.  
"Got a problem?" Bryan asked sharply, glaring directly at Ian.  
"You don't have a problem, do you Ian?" Tala answered for the smaller boy, making it quite clear that any answer that differed from his team captain would be met with extreme disapproval.  
"I have a problem with his smell" Ian replied, his expression becoming petulant as he shoved his hands into his pockets and shuffled towards the exit.  
"Well you don't exactly smell like roses, Noddy" Bryan snapped, at Ian's back, that was retreating behind the door.  
"No he doesn't, but he certainly smells better than you" Tala informed him "So, if you don't want to give 'Noddy' further ammunition, then I'd have that shower"  
"And in case you thought that was a request, it wasn't" Spencer stated, with an edge to his voice that suggested that any arguments would be futile "Because if decide not to, we will wash you ourselves"  
"I wouldn't, if I was you - I bite" Bryan answered back, bearing his teeth.  
Tala eyed him for a second or two, his long, thin eyebrow raised "I don't think that'll be an issue - they keep us up on our Tetanus shots"  
Seemingly the red-haired team captain had an answer for everything; sensing that no matter how many rounds of 'One Up' he played, he wouldn't manage to come out on top or even have the last word, Bryan gave in. He grabbed the towel and the soap from the taller boy, and gestured for the remaining pair to leave and give him an ounce of privacy.  
"Good choice, Oleg" Tala remarked, as he strolled towards the exit and beckoned Spencer to follow him "If you need anything, we'll be outside" 

\- - - - -

"Well, what do you know" Tala said, amusement evident in his tone "You don't always smell like a festering sewer; in actual fact, I think that citrus fresh smell suits you"  
Bryan narrowed his lavender eyes and glared darkly at the ginger boy. He shoved past him and began heading back towards their sleeping accommodation, whilst Tala and Spencer followed closely behind.  
"What happened to my clothes?" Bryan demanded to know, not even casting a glance over his shoulder to the others.  
"I put them in for washing" Tala replied simply "It didn't make sense to me, for you to wash yourself and then put dirty clothes back on"  
"Not to mention, it was hard to tell what smelt worse - you or the clothes" Spencer added lightly.  
"Besides, they're perfectly functional clothes - its not like we made you borrow Ian's" Tala teased gently.  
Bryan gave a loud and unimpressed snort, to indicate that he wasn't at all happy with them taking his belongings or deciding things for him. Normally, if someone had touched his possessions, Bryan would've have used his Beyblade to remind them never to make that mistake twice, but right now he wasn't in a position to do so. He decided to keep a closer a watch in future, and if one of his new found cellmates over-stepped the boundaries again, he would treat them to a little orientation about the rules of personal space.  
"You know, we should really do something with that tangled mess you call a haircut" It was the smugly satisfied voice of the red-head again.  
Bryan chose to ignore the snide comment and continued testing his personal navigation skills, as he explored his way through the corridors, in search of the room that he now shared with these aggravating Biovolt lackeys. Tala, however, was not deterred by the silence; apparently he liked having a one-sided conversation, as offered him a greater opportunity to listen to the sounds of his own voice. Not to mention, it meant that no one was arguing with the authority he'd been given by Boris, over the other boys he captained.  
"I'm sure I have a comb and a pair of scissors that could sort that out for you in no time"  
Spencer grabbed the back of Bryan's lemon coloured t-shirt, and pushed open a door "Unless you were going somewhere else, this is our stop, Rumple"  
Accompanied by the heavily muscled blonde and the slightly built, red-head, Bryan entered the shared sleeping space. Ian, sprawled across his bunk, propped himself up on an elbow, to determine the source of the sound; he looked a little relieved when he realised that it was the usual suspects and not their much-feared mentor.  
"Are you ever going to stop calling me, Rumple?" Bryan hissed, through gritted teeth - his nasal voice and heavy accent, often made people remark that he was hard to understand, especially if he spoke through his teeth. Although he was aware of this fact, he was pretty sure he didn't need to annunciate for Spencer to understand what he meant.  
The blonde eyed for a second, as if deciphering the meaning from the lavender haired boy's snarl "Sure, I'll stop calling you Rumple, when you tell us what your name is"  
"Don't you think you're being pretty childish?" Bryan asked, his jaw still clenched tight.  
"Don't you?" Ian commented, from his bunk; his small, Burgundy eyes peering at the taller boy "I mean, you're the one who's childish enough to keep playing this guessing game with us; don't you think its time you told us your actual name?"  
"Relax, comrades" Tala called out, from foraging through his wardrobe "Boris said if he didn't tell us, we could name him; which is actually pretty nice of him if you look at it this way - Boris finally let us have a pet"  
"Whilst that's true, he's not a very cute pet" Spencer responded, stepping closer to Bryan so as to better inspect him.  
Bryan, however, did not find the insinuation that he was a pet at all endearing, instead it only irked him further "I don't know what crazy shit the Biovolt corporation put in your food here, but I am no one's pet - not yours, not Boris' and certainly not the Biovolt's; I don't even remotely look like something that you could domesticate, and believe me when I say that looks, in this case, are not deceiving"  
"I don't know, Spencer, his monologues are pretty cute" Tala replied, ignoring Bryan's protestations completely.  
"Really?" Spencer responded, both his eyebrows raised in mild surprise "I thought we heard enough of that from Boris, and you don't seem to find it cute then"  
"Ah, that's because Boris' are a different kind of monologue, the kind where he tells us in detail how diabolical he is and how he's going to rule the world with an iron fist and crush those who would oppose him; Bryan's are naive and innocent boyhood dreams, of escape and freedom" Tala explained "I think there's something refreshing about that"  
"If you say so, Tala" Spencer conceded, with a small sigh "I just don't think he's going to be a very good pet; I think he may have fleas and rabies, and I'm not so sure that he's house-trained"  
"Well, we'll have to see won't we?" Tala answered, holding up a small pair of metal scissors "Besides, it wasn't our choice to take Vladimir in, it was Boris', and far be it for us to question his wisdom"  
If it wasn't annoying enough when it was inferred that he was a pet of some description, Bryan found it even more frustrating to be talked around like he wasn't present, or as if his hearing was faulty in some way; or maybe they were just treating him as some lesser lifeform that simply couldn't understand the conversation that they were all having.  
"I can hear you, y'know" Bryan piped up, fixing the team captain with his trademark death glare.  
"I know you can, Yulian, but the adults are talking, 'kay?" Tala replied, patting Bryan on the cheek.  
Bryan was about to launch into a tirade of verbal abuse and perhaps lash out a little, throwing a few punches or something that equally punctuated his displeasure, when he felt arms tighten around his waist and haul him off the ground. He squirmed and kicked out with his legs, but the hulking blonde held fast; and after a few paces, Spencer placed him down on a wooden chair.  
"If you want to keep him, fine, but you're responsible for grooming him and feeding him; or anything else he needs as part of his up-keep"  
"What do you think the scissors are for, comrade?" Tala's face split into a devilish grin, that spoke volumes for the kinds of mischief or evil that the red-head was capable of "Time for a haircut, Mopboy" 

\- - - - -

Even though the outside of the Abbey was bathed in the warm glow of the morning sunlight, none of the soft and uplifting rays made it into the dingy, grimy walls of the high-tech training facility. Bryan had accompanied the other three boys into the testing area, at Boris' request. Thanks to Tala, he now sported a new haircut, one that was shorter and had a distinct style; even if that style was something distinctly awful. He also wore new clothes, and his old boots had been polished - he no longer truly resembled the mangy street-kid that gotten himself trapped in this hell-hole. As the would-be dictator of the world, and one of Biovolt's most powerful stooges strutted into the room, Bryan took his place in the line with the other boys; not broken, not ready to hand himself over to the fate of many of the other boys, but as someone who had the smarts to know when to play the game. He had been a little successful in getting through to Tala, at least, he had implanted the idea of a revolution in the red-head's mind; now all he needed to do was nurture it and attempt to coax Spencer and Ian into colluding with him. Whatever happened, however, Bryan would not give up; he would be leaving Balkov Abbey - with or without the others. 

Boris - not clad in the priest's attire that Bryan had first encountered him in, but in a personalised, faux military, forest green tailcoat and black mask - circled the group, appraising each of the boys in turn. He gave them all an approving nod and a crooked smile.  
"Its good to see that your settling in" He addressed to Bryan, eyeing him closely "You've all done a good job helping him to acclimatise"  
"I'm glad you approve, Boris" Tala answered, keeping his eyes facing front and his body at attention.  
"We just carried out your orders to the best of our abilities" Spencer added.  
"Well, m'boys, I'm proud of you; it seems that you have all made an effort to make our newcomer feel welcome" Boris told them, clamping a hand onto Bryan's shoulder "And because I have such faith in you, I have decided that you shall participate in a little 'team-bonding' exercise"  
Bryan felt his stomach sink; although he had no idea what the older man was planning, he was certain that he wasn't going to appreciate it. If the others objected to their mentor's decision, none of them moved an inch or offered any complaint; they all remained eyes facing forwards, standing to attention.  
"Good, there are no objections; you'll leave this evening" Boris informed them "Until then, I suggest that you make the most of the training facilities"  
"Yes, Boris" Tala, Spencer and Ian chorused obediently, leaving Bryan wondering what lay in store for them, come the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this part did take me forever to finish, and I really have no excuse for it, excepting the fact that I procrastinate more than anyone else I know. For that, I do apologise, and I hope that hasn't put you off reading. I will finish the story; just bare with me! (And it is completely okay to give me a little nudge and ask me how the story is going.)  
> I actually like how this chapter played out, and I hope you enjoyed some of the character interactions as much as I enjoyed writing them. I giggled my way through this at times, despite knowing how bad it is to laugh at your own jokes.  
> As always feedback is appreciated!
> 
> (C) Beyblade: Aoki Takao & Hasbro (These lovely people are the reason, I can write fanfiction to begin with.)


End file.
